


Takoyaki Power!

by Chaos_Valkyrie



Series: 1character Challenge Series [2]
Category: Fruits Basket
Genre: Gen, Introspection, mentions of other canon characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 08:16:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6898132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaos_Valkyrie/pseuds/Chaos_Valkyrie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>50 Insights into the world of Ritsu Sohma.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Takoyaki Power!

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 1character LJ Challenge, set Delta. 50 sentence drabbles about Ritsu Sohma! Based both on Anime and Manga, through vol. 13.

Blend.  
He attempts to hide in the throngs of people, carefully avoiding the contact that might reveal one of his many secrets.

Stain.  
The spot is small, hardly noticeable, but still he apologizes profusely to the launderers when he drops off his clothes.

Island.  
Sometimes he wonders if he might be happier living far away, where no one can criticize him, and then realizes that he’d still have to live with himself.

Apple.  
His hand reaches briefly for the fruit before dropping dejectedly; which kind would Shigure-niisan like best?

Paper.  
His brow scrunches as he reviews the essay for his class; sighing softly, he reaches for the red pen yet again.

Relax.  
As they grew comfortable with each other, she would hold him to her in his transformed state and stroke his fur fondly.

Leaves.  
How sad that he was so jealous of the fall, of the leaves that would die and fall so gracefully to the ground, freed from life’s torments.

Proof.  
The bag’s breaking is merely proof, proof that no one should be burdened with his company.

Ugly.  
Tohru calls him beautiful, but inwardly he looks at the other Sohmas and denies it.

Book.  
He drops the book, his cheeks fiery as he is unable to finish reading Shigure’s latest work.

Brood.  
Sitting on the roof, he stares towards the horizon and ponders whether he should burden Miss Honda with his worthless problems.

Mesh.  
Eyes wide, he puts the sheer fabric back on the rack; he’d never be daring enough to wear that.

Soft.  
His face softens as he feeds her a piece of takoyaki and she smiles back at him fondly.

Shelf.  
He can’t quite reach the book he wants, but he’s too afraid to waste someone else’s time by asking for help.

Alone.  
A man leers at him on the subway, causing him to wish that he had someone to bring with him on this visit.

Fall.  
The first time Mii falls into him, she wails in panic as he attempts to explain his cursed state.

Knot.  
Carefully he ties the obi about his waist; one, two, three knots, he feels secure.

Crowd.  
He bows his head dejectedly as his parents once more apologize to the gathered Sohmas.

Denial.  
He refuses her hospitality again, wishing to escape the fears that stifle him.

Train.  
Little by little, he tries to build up to the confidence he so desires, one little baby step at a time.

Fur.  
Crouched high in the tree, curled in a tiny ball, the wind ruffles his fur and he sighs sadly.

Chrome.  
He stares, and shudders, but is ultimately too shameless to stain the knife’s bright gleam with his blood.

Heart.  
His heart feels like it might explode when she smiles at him so lovingly.

Intention.  
She seems pleased with the book of flowers, appreciating his thoughtfulness over the actual present.

Push.  
Mid-panic-attack he feels a punch to the side, forcing him to relax and fall pathetically to the ground.

Look.  
His professor glances carefully at his kimono the first time she calls roll, but says nothing and continues down the list.

Weight.  
He carefully watches her, looking but not seeing the signs that his presence is becoming tiresome to her.

Spider.  
He screams and then mutters apologetically to the creature he just squashed.

Robe.  
He lowers his eyes and lies bashfully to the salesperson’s question, “Oh, is this a gift for your sister?”

Umbrella.  
Laughing, she shelters him as they run through the rain together to his apartment.

Surface.  
The doors are closed to his world, too timid and too ashamed to let anyone see past his façade.

Idea.  
Kagura cursed herself later for her bright idea, “Hey Ritsu, let’s play dress up!”

Diamond.  
He always felt like a lump of coal next to the others.

Blind.  
Sometimes he wonders how different his life would be if he couldn’t see the disappointment and scorn in the others’ eyes.

Flow.  
Standing on the bridge, he watches the water far below with resignation before turning away.

Movement.  
He reminds himself to shorten his stride, take daintier steps, and therefore hide from the questions his attire might raise.

More.  
Shamed, he blushes as he wishes she would say those words just one more time.

Honey.  
His hair flows through his fingers, and he’s sorry he has to tie the golden-hued mass back.

Weather.  
The lightning crashes overhead, causing him to burrow deeper into his blankets with a squeak.

Blue.  
“I thought the color would look nice against your hair,” Mii tells him as he holds the yukata aloft.

Double.  
Doubling over on the roof’s edge, he gasps at the sharp pain coursing through his ankle and his heart.

Braid.  
Mii laughs as she braids his hair, understanding his need for comfort.

Thread.  
His stitches are crooked as he tries to repair the tear in his kimono, and he is reminded of yet another way he fails to be like his idol.

Angles.  
Most boys grew up all elbows and angles; in his case, his cheeks never lost their softness, his eyes their roundness, and that allowed him to pass so easily for a woman.

Daydream.  
In his mind’s eye, he sees himself standing tall and unafraid, the most confident of the Sohma clan.

Nightmare.  
The daydream flees, and he suddenly awakens to the fact that he’s just as terrified of failure as before.

Honor.  
He wishes to be a son they can be proud of, not the stain on their family name.

Palm.  
Her hand fits neatly into his own as they sit comfortably, waiting for Shigure’s appearance.

Screen.  
He feels like there’s an invisible barrier separating him from the rest of the clan, denying him his share of their talents and charms.

Warmth.  
Whether she means them or not, Tohru’s kind words and bright smiles bring a fullness to his heart.

**Author's Note:**

> I had a much harder time with this one than with ‘Miss Independent’. Keep in mind, I don’t think that Ritsu is worthless – I tried to write from his POV of himself. I haven't finished the series yet, so I’m not sure how Ritsu will turn out or how soon he’ll get together with Mii (his honey!), but I think that eventually he’ll calm down, once he’s assured that someone out there will care for him.


End file.
